The First Man You Meet

by Debbie Macomber

  ‘‘Let me guess,’’ Jill interrupted, ‘‘your uncle John was the man suing her client.’’

  Shelly nodded. ‘‘Yes, and that was only the beginning. Every time they turned around they were bumping into each other.’’

  ‘‘How long after they met were they married?’’

  This was the question Shelly had dreaded most. She closed her eyes and whispered, ‘‘Ten days.’’

  ‘‘Ten days,’’ Jill echoed with an incredulous look.

  ‘‘I know. It seems that once they kissed they both realized there wasn’t any use fighting it.’’

  ‘‘Did your aunt tell John about the seamstress and the wedding dress?’’

  Shelly shrugged. ‘‘I don’t know, but my guess is she didn’t…at least not at first.’’ She hadn’t touched her salad yet and paused long enough to savor a forkful of her favorite seafood. Then she said abruptly, ‘‘They eloped without telling anyone.’’

  ‘‘Children?’’ Jill wanted to know.

  ‘‘Three boys. My mother’s cousins.’’

  ‘‘What about granddaughters? You’d think your aunt Milly would want to hand the dress down to one of them.’’

  ‘‘All three of her sons had boys themselves. I guess you could say I’m the closest thing she’s got to a granddaughter.’’

  ‘‘Ten days,’’ Jill repeated. ‘‘That’s really something.’’

  Forking up another succulent shrimp, Shelly continued her story. ‘‘That old Scottish woman knew about the wedding even before the family did. When Aunt Milly and Uncle John returned from their honeymoon, there was a wedding card from the seamstress waiting for them at the house.’’

  Jill propped her elbows on the table and gazed at Shelly. ‘‘Tell me what Mark Brady looks like.’’

  Shelly frowned, trying to form her impressions of him into some kind of reasonably articulate description. He was compelling in ways she didn’t quite understand. Principled and headstrong, but how she knew that, Shelly couldn’t explain. ‘‘He’s tall,’’ she began slowly.

  ‘‘How tall?’’

  ‘‘Basketball-player tall. He must be about six five.’’

  ‘‘Brown hair?’’

  Shelly nodded. ‘‘With blue eyes. Really blue eyes. I can’t remember the last time I met a man with eyes that precise color. They seemed to…’’ She hesitated, unsettled by the emotion that stirred within her when she thought about Mark. Although their encounter had been brief, Shelly was left feeling oddly certain that she could trust this man, trust him implicitly. It wasn’t a sensation she could ever remember experiencing with any other man. She didn’t like the feeling; it made her uncomfortable. Until Jill had started asking her about Mark, Shelly didn’t realize she’d experienced any emotion toward him—except for embarrassment, of course.

  ‘‘Why do you want to know?’’ she asked.

  Jill gave her a silly, knowing grin. ‘‘Because if he’s as tall as you say, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, then the man you described just walked into this restaurant.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ Shelly felt her stomach sink. ‘‘Mark’s here? Mark Brady?’’

  ‘‘That’s not so amazing, is it? This is, after all, the same shopping mall in which you, uh, met—’’ Jill made a show of glancing at her watch ‘‘—thirty or so minutes ago.’’

  ‘‘He’s here.’’ She reminded herself that Jill was right: Mark’s choosing to have lunch at Patrick’s was just a logical coincidence. Too bad she couldn’t convince her racing heart to believe that.

  ‘‘He’s sitting on the other side of the room,’’ Jill whispered.

  ‘‘Has he seen me yet?’’

  ‘‘I don’t think so.’’

  Without being obvious—or at least Shelly hoped she wasn’t being obvious—she turned to look in his direction. At that same instant, Mark happened to glance up. Their eyes met. Despite herself, she gasped. Her hands shook and she felt herself break out in a cold sweat.

  Mark scowled and quickly looked away.

  She couldn’t blame him. He seemed surprised to see her there. Unpleasantly surprised.

  ‘‘Well, is it him?’’ Jill demanded.

  Shelly couldn’t find her voice, so she answered with a quick nod.

  ‘‘I thought it might be. What are you thinking?’’

  ‘‘That I’ve lost my appetite.’’ Shelly doubted she’d be able to finish her lunch.

  ‘‘You want my advice?’’ Jill asked, grinning broadly. ‘‘I don’t have a lot of experience in the area of magic wedding dresses, but I recently read a fascinating book on home remedies.’’

  ‘‘Sure.’’ At this point Shelly was feeling reckless enough to try just about anything.

  ‘‘Garlic,’’ Jill said solemnly. ‘‘Wear a garlic rope around your neck. Not only does it deter vampires, but it just might ward off potential husbands conjured up by a magic wedding dress.’’

  Chapter Four

  HARD THOUGH SHE TRIED, Shelly had a difficult time ignoring Mark Brady. He sat there, stiff and unapproachable, at the other side of the small restaurant. Just as stiff and unapproachable as she was. Jill wanted to linger over her coffee before returning to her job at the PayRite Pharmacy in the mall, but Shelly was eager to be on her way. The sooner she left, the sooner she could put this bothersome encounter out of her mind.

  ‘‘Don’t forget Morgan’s baby shower on Tuesday night,’’ Jill said as Shelly reached for her purse.

  Shelly had completely forgotten about their friend’s party, which was understandable given her present state of mind. Most of their college friends were married and several were now having babies. Rather than admit how absentminded she’d suddenly become, Shelly asked, ‘‘Do you want to drive over together?’’

  ‘‘Sure,’’ Jill agreed. ‘‘I have to go directly from work so I’ll stop off at your place and we can leave from there.’’

  ‘‘Sounds good to me.’’ She tried to imagine their blond, scatterbrained classmate as a wife and mother. It was Morgan who’d gotten the entire dorm hooked on daytime soap operas. Before anyone could figure out how it had occurred, all the girls were obsessed with the characters and their lives. It became as important as mealtimes to learn if Jessie would ever find true love. To the best of Shelly’s knowledge, she hadn’t.

  But then, Jessie didn’t have an aunt Milly. The unexpected thought flashed through her mind.

  Irritated with herself, Shelly dropped her share of the bill and a tip on the table. ‘‘I’ll see you Tuesday, then.’’

  ‘‘Right. And Shelly, don’t look so worried. No enchanted wedding dress is going to disrupt your life unless you allow it to happen.’’

  Easy for Jill to say, since it wasn’t her life and her great-aunt’s wedding dress. Nevertheless, her advice was sound. Aunt Milly might have had some fanciful dream about Shelly’s marring a tall man with blue eyes, but that didn’t mean it was going to happen, especially when Shelly was so determined that it wouldn’t.

  ‘‘You’re absolutely right,’’ she stated emphatically. ‘‘I know I keep saying that, but…well, I seem to need reminding. So, thanks. Again.’’ With a final wave, she wandered out of the restaurant, barely noticing the colorful shop windows as she passed them. As Jill had pointed out, Aunt Milly meant well, but the letter and the wedding dress shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Shelly was content with her life, and the last thing she needed right now was a man. Especially a staid, conventional man like Mark Brady.

  Shelly knew exactly what kind of man she’d fall in love with. He’d be intelligent, and fervent about life, and as passionate as she was herself. Naturally, he’d appreciate her work and take pride in his own. He’d need to be a free spirit, like her. Unconventional. She’d like a man with gumption, too—someone who possessed a bit of initiative. It’d be nice if he was a little better at organizational skills than she was, but that wasn’t absolutely necessary.

  With thoughts of marriage so prominent in her
mind, Shelly soon found herself standing in front of a jeweler’s display window. A large assortment of wedding bands had captured her attention. Scanning the selection, she found one ring that stood out from the rest: three small rows of diamond chips, bracketed on each side by a thin band of gold. The ring was striking in its simplicity, its uncontrived beauty.

  For the longest moment Shelly stared at the rings as her mind wove whimsical dreams around the happy bride and the tall groom. Tall groom. Her thoughts came to a skidding halt.

  What on earth had come over her? She didn’t know, but whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Self-consciously she glanced around, fearful that someone was watching her. Well, a very specific someone, to be honest. Someone who definitely shouldn’t see her gazing with open longing at a collection of absurdly high-priced wedding rings. Mark Brady.

  With a sense of urgency, Shelly hurried toward the mall exit, her feet barely able to move fast enough. It was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run. No matter how fast she walked, however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was there, watching her. Twice she whirled around, convinced she’d find Mark Brady strolling behind her, sneering and making contemptuous remarks.

  He wasn’t there.

  Shelly felt herself relax as she neared her apartment. She parked her car, then stopped in the lobby to collect her mail. As soon as she opened the small box, Mrs. Livingston’s head poked out her door.

  ‘‘Good afternoon, Shelly,’’ she chirped, gazing at her expectantly.

  It took Shelly a moment to realize that Mrs. L. must have been waiting to hear about the contents of her package.

  ‘‘It’s a lovely day,’’ Shelly said conversationally, sorting through her mail. Two bills, a flyer and something from the Internal Revenue Service. The way her luck had been going, it was probably an audit notice. A quick inspection revealed exactly that. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly.

  ‘‘A lovely day indeed,’’ Mrs. Livingston echoed cheerfully.

  Muttering under her breath, Shelly stuffed the IRS notice back inside the envelope. When she glanced up, she noticed that the older woman was now standing in the hallway, wearing another vividly colored outfit—turquoise and purple this time.

  ‘‘I suppose you’re wondering about the package,’’ Shelly said resignedly, tucking her mail inside her purse. ‘‘It was a gift from my aunt Milly.’’

  ‘‘Something from the past, I guess?’’ Mrs. Livingston asked.

  ‘‘Why…yes, how’d you know?’’

  ‘‘I’d take whatever it was very, very seriously if I were you,’’ Mrs. Livingston continued in a solemn voice. ‘‘Wizard wouldn’t go anywhere near that box. Think what you want, but my cat has always had a sixth sense when it comes to this sort of thing.’’

  ‘‘It’s a dress, Mrs. L.’’ Shelly explained, hiding behind a falsely bright smile. ‘‘How am I supposed to take a dress seriously?’’

  Mrs. Livingston opened her apartment door and scooped the large black-and-white cat into her arms. ‘‘That I wouldn’t know,’’ she returned, her eyes narrowed and mysterious. ‘‘All I can tell you is that Wizard felt skittish around that package. You don’t suppose there’s…magic in it, do you?’’

  Somehow Shelly managed a reply, although she felt certain it was unintelligible. Taking the stairs two at a time, she hurried into her apartment, leaning breathlessly against the door once she was inside. Even Mrs. Livingston’s cat knew there was something strange about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress!

  WHEN JILL ARRIVED late Tuesday afternoon, Shelly was ready and waiting for her, brightly wrapped baby gift in hand. She was eager to get out and socialize—eager to get out, period. Anything to escape another phone call from her mother, who’d recently heard from Aunt Milly. Now Faith Hansen was calling daily for updates on the romantic prospects in her daughter’s life.

  ‘‘Well,’’ Jill demanded as she entered the apartment. ‘‘Are you going to show it to me?’’

  ‘‘Show what to you?’’

  Jill gave her a look that seemed to question her friend’s intelligence. ‘‘The wedding dress, of course.’’

  For several hours Shelly had managed to put the dress out of her mind. ‘‘No,’’ she said forcefully. ‘‘I want to forget about the whole thing.’’

  ‘‘Met any tall blue-eyed men lately?’’ Jill couldn’t resist asking.

  ‘‘None,’’ Shelly answered shortly. Checking her watch, she noted that they were early but suggested they leave, anyway. ‘‘Shouldn’t we go now?’’

  ‘‘We’ve got lots of time,’’ Jill countered, moving toward Shelly’s bedroom. ‘‘Come on, it isn’t going to hurt to let me look at the dress.’’

  ‘‘Oh, all right,’’ Shelly conceded ungraciously. Leading the way, she opened the closet door and reached into the back of the closet.

  She brought out the lace-and-satin gown, holding it up for Jill’s inspection. She’d barely looked at the dress the day she’d received it, and now she was almost shocked by how breathtakingly beautiful it actually was.

  The laughter drained from Jill’s dark brown eyes as she stared at the gown. ‘‘Oh, Shelly, it’s…lovely.’’ She gently touched the Elizabethan sleeve and ran her finger along the delicate layer of pearls that decorated the cuff. The high neckline was also trimmed with an intricate design of pearls, so that it resembled a choke collar. ‘‘I don’t know what I expected,’’ Jill continued in an awed whisper, ‘‘but certainly nothing as beautiful as this.’’

  Shelly nodded wordlessly. The dress was far more exquisite than she’d realized. Her heart swelled with unexpected emotion, and to her dismay, tears filled her eyes as she thought about the old Scottish woman who had so lovingly constructed the gown. Each pearl had been sewn into place by hand. She thought of her aunt Milly, as tall and statuesque as Shelly herself, wearing the dress. Then she recalled her uncle John, such a determined man. She imagined him, standing tall and proud beside Milly. Shelly thought fondly of those two, who’d been so completely different, yet had loved each other so well.…

  For a moment neither she nor Jill spoke. ‘‘Have you tried it on?’’ Jill asked finally.

  Shelly shook her head adamantly, not wanting her friend to realize how emotional she’d become. ‘‘Heavens, no, but you can if you want.’’

  ‘‘I don’t think I could resist if I were you,’’ Jill whispered, obviously affected by the dress, too. ‘‘Just seeing it…makes me long to be a bride myself.’’

  ‘‘There’s always Ralph,’’ Shelly teased. Jill had been dating Ralph, a computer programmer, for several months, but frankly she couldn’t understand what her friend saw in him.

  Jill tossed her an irritated look. ‘‘The dress is for you, not me.’’

  ‘‘But I don’t want it,’’ Shelly insisted, though she was no longer sure what she felt. Not since she’d really examined the dress and allowed herself to remember the wonder of John and Milly’s romance.

  ‘‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’’ Jill asked, slipping off her shoes. ‘‘I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t try it on, I’ll understand.’’

  ‘‘No, feel free.’’ Shelly strove for a flippant air. ‘‘As far as I’m concerned the dress is nothing but bad luck. It arrived on Friday the thirteenth. The next day I had that minor accident on the mall escalator. Now I’m being audited by the IRS.’’

  It was as if Jill didn’t hear. ‘‘I doubt it’ll fit,’’ she said as she cautiously removed the gown from the padded hanger. ‘‘I’m a good five inches shorter than you and heavier on top.’’

  ‘‘Maybe the dress was meant for you in the first place,’’ Shelly ventured. Perhaps Aunt Milly had been confused and it was Jill she’d viewed in her dream. After all, Milly’s eyes weren’t what they used to be.…

  ‘‘Does your mother know?’’ Jill asked as she stepped into the dress. She raised it over her hips and turned around to let Shelly fasten the buttons that ran down the back.
<
br />   ‘‘That’s another thing,’’ Shelly moaned. ‘‘Mom’s been calling me every day since the dress arrived, wanting to know if I’ve met anyone special yet.’’

  ‘‘What did you tell her?’’ Jill asked, looking at Shelly over her shoulder.

  ‘‘What’s there to tell?’’ she asked irritably.

  ‘‘Well, you might have mentioned Mark.’’

  ‘‘Mark,’’ Shelly repeated. She shrugged elaborately. ‘‘I haven’t given him a thought in days.’’ Not strictly true, but she’d been trying not to think about him. Even if he was interested in her—and he’d made very clear that he wasn’t—she couldn’t imagine two more ill-suited people. ‘‘I haven’t seen him since last Saturday and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.’’

  ‘‘You’re sure of that?’’

  ‘‘Positive.’’

  ‘‘Well, what do you think?’’ Jill asked next, pirouetting slowly in front of her. ‘‘My hair’s a mess and I’ve got hardly any makeup on, but…’’

  Shelly looked at her friend and sighed audibly. Never had she seen Jill look lovelier. It was as if the dress had been made for her. ‘‘You look absolutely enchanting. It fits like a dream.’’

  ‘‘I feel like I am dreaming,’’ Jill admitted softly. ‘‘Here,’’ she said, turning around, ‘‘undo me before I start longing for a husband and 2.5 children.’’

  ‘‘Don’t forget the house with the white picket fence,’’ Shelly teased, unfastening the buttons.

  Jill slipped out of the dress. ‘‘Your turn,’’ she said as she laid it carefully across the bed. ‘‘If it fits me, then it can’t possibly fit you. You’ve got the perfect excuse to mail it back to your aunt Milly.’’

  ‘‘I…don’t know.’’ Shelly bit her lip. She felt an inexplicable urge to keep the dress, and at the same time she would’ve willingly express-mailed it back to her aunt. Even while she hesitated, Shelly found herself undressing. She couldn’t explain her sudden eagerness to try on the wedding gown any more than she could fathom its growing emotional appeal.